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Authors: Scarlett Black

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As
for Dreama, the only contact we had was when I took Joey by her house for
visits.  I lied, and lied, and lied some more.  I don’t know why she didn’t
press the issue.  On some level, I think she’d already given up on me.  Thank
God for small miracles.

A
month later, we were almost ready to open the doors of Secret Desires. 

I
had been recruiting on the sly, arranging meet-ups with talent from other
agencies under the false pretenses of a young, curious woman wanting to
experiment.  They weren’t offended that I’d tricked them into a meeting, but at
the same time, none were willing to commit to a brand new agency with no
history.  They had steady, solid clients that would be wary about giving their
money to a different company that may not be as reliable.  It was
understandable.  It was that same, maddening catch-22 of job hunting—you need
to
have
experience to
get
experience.

“No
offense, honey,” one escort named Ellen had told me, “you may have it all
figured out when it comes to the numbers, but you really don’t know shit about
the psychology.”

When
I’d asked what it mattered whether she was with her current service or ours,
she offered, “Here’s what you need to understand, okay?  You’re selling a
fantasy, true, but you’re also selling trust and loyalty.  Both of those things
are fragile.  Most of my clients are sneaking around in secret.  They have
wives and families.  They prefer to keep things as simple as possible. 

“They’re
loyal to me because they trust me, but change freaks them out, even the
slightest thing.  It’s all such a delicate balance and I appreciate your offer,
you’ve got some amazing terms, but something as simple as changing where the
money flows could ruin a client base that it took me years to build.  I can’t
give that up.”

“So
what do you suggest?” I’d asked.  “I don’t want to do something like putting a
classified ad in the paper because I’m trying to recruit a certain type.”

“You
said you used to work for Roman, right?”

“Yes.”

“God,
I hated that man.  Maybe I have an idea for you.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

I
waffled with Ellen’s suggestion for a couple of days, and considering what
happened, I wished I had blown it off and stuck to my original plan. 
Ultimately, all I wanted was to be better than Roman at his own game.  I wanted
to hit him where it hurt the most—right in his wallet.  He had no heart to
damage.

I
wanted to outmatch him, outwit him, and out-earn him so I could swagger into
his office one day and explain why some of his wealthiest clients had left him
with empty pockets.

What
I ended up doing was poking the badger, as they say.  When I took Ellen’s
advice, I crippled Roman, and most know that there’s nothing more dangerous
than a wounded, cornered animal.

The
truth is, I underestimated him and the depths he was willing to go in order to win
his war.

People
got hurt.

***

Michelle and I sat in my office one
morning, not long after my meeting with Ellen, sipping cappuccinos and watching
the city come to life far below us. 

I’d
had over a month to think things through.  I’d moved through just about all the
stages of broken heart recovery: Depression, Ice Cream, Shopping, Anger,
Makeover, and I was just shy of the final one, Letting Go.  I still had every
intention of making Secret Desires the best it could possibly be—there was
money to be made, after all.  We’d blown through over half of my illicit
earnings getting set up.  The coffers needed replenishing.  I needed to secure
Joey’s future.  Michelle, while she didn’t require, nor ask, for a salary,
deserved something for her time and sacrifices.

We
had the whole business ready to go, but without a menu to choose from, we were
simply two young women, sipping overly sugary coffee drinks, waiting on the
phone to ring for something we couldn’t provide.

“Her
suggestion…it’s too risky,” I said, shaking my head and wiping the foam from my
upper lip.  “What if one of them rats on me?  He’ll find out, and if he does,
we’re screwed.  The next thing you know, we’re hiring that lady down on Fourth
Street to visit clients.”

“The
one with the missing teeth?  Always stands in front of the bagel shop?”

“Yeah.”

“No
way.  We’re
not
stooping that low.  And besides, don’t forget that you—
we
—started
this whole operation just to get back at Roman.  The money’s a bonus, nothing
more.”

“You
hold a grudge longer than I do.”

“He’s
gotta burn, sweetie, and not only because of you.  He’s probably done the same
thing a hundred times before and he’ll do it a hundred more.  We’ve already
come so far, and if it’s not about
your
revenge anymore, it should be
about protecting all the ones that’ll come behind you.”

I
raised my to-go cup in a mock toast.  “For the cause!”

Michelle
laughed.  “For the cause!”

“Do
you really think it’ll work?” I asked.

“You
know their mindset better than I do, but yeah, I think so.  I mean,
I’d
be intrigued because all it takes for Aaron to get a handjob is helping with
the dishes.”

“Prostitute.”

“Hah,
well, maybe I have it in me after all.”

I
nodded and drained the last of the cappuccino, discovering where all the sugar
had gone in those last syrupy sips.  “So.  We make an irresistible offer.”  I
tossed the cup in the trash and glanced around the room, looking at all the excessively
expensive stuff that I’d allowed Michelle to splurge on.  “I’m not sure we can
afford it.  What if none of this works out?  What if I waste all my savings and
I’m right back where I started?”

“Then
just do it for six months.  It doesn’t have to be a year.  And seriously,
listen to me—you said it yourself—people will pay so much money to get their
rocks off the way they
really
want to.  It’s that simple.  You want the
right kind of talent, we have to do it.  This’ll be a loss leader to get them
on staff, and the offer’s so good, you won’t have to stress over what that lady
told you about trust and whatever.  They’ll beg their clients to come with them
to get what you’re offering.  After that, it’s gravy.”

“Did
you just say ‘loss leader’?  You finally read that book I gave you, huh?”

“As
if.  I made Aaron read it and he gave me the highlights.”

I
inhaled deeply, trying to calm the butterflies in my stomach.  “Okay, no time
like the present.”  I rolled my chair around so that I sat behind my desk,
feeling not-so-official in my sweat pants, hair in a mess, with a blueberry
stain streaking across my t-shirt—the result of Joey flinging a bowl that
morning and giggling at the aftermath.

Michelle
waited, watching me, as my hand hesitated over the office phone.  My
confidence, all that I had built up imagining myself haggling over billions of
dollars in some corporate boardroom had slowly leaked out of me now that I was
the one in charge, when it was
my
savings on the line.  The wavering
between being a power hungry harridan and a timid, fledgling business owner
gave me heartburn. 

I
suppose that my confidence issues, strong one minute and paper-thin the next,
can be attributed to so many years of feeling like I’d accomplished something
incredible
,
only to be beaten down by Dreama’s
demands for more, and better.  “Oh, you got an A on your paper, Kim?  Why
didn’t you get an A-plus?”

Boohoo,
blame it on Mommy issues. 

Damn
right.  I doubt a therapist could’ve erased the damage.

I
said to Michelle, “Any chance you would want to go for a run?  Or, you know, I
think there’s a yoga class down in the third floor gym.”

“Why?”

“I—I
can’t do it with you watching.”

She
clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, shaking her head.  “And you
made it through
three months
of weird sexy times with a bunch of old
men?”

“Different
mindset.  Please?”

***

With
Michelle finally gone, I dialed the first contact on my list.  We weren’t
really friends, not exactly, but we had become familiar enough that she was the
best place to start.  If I could get Lucinda—Lucy to those close enough—to join
the enemy, then it might be easier to recruit the others.  Social proof goes a
long way. 

Lucinda
had been something of a mentor to a lot of the ladies at Midnight Fantasy, and
we’d even had coffee one time after she found out I’d taken over the sleazier
cadre of clients.  I’d inadvertently stolen one of hers, but she had reassured
me that she was thankful.  She wasn’t a fan of Walter Wickam III anyway.

She
answered on the third ring.  “Hello, this is Lucinda.”

“Lucy,
hi, it’s Kim.  Um, Kim, from…I used to work for Roman?”

“Kim! 
Hi!  I was wondering how you’d been.  So it’s true, huh?”

“What’s
true?”

“That
Roman fired you.”

“That’s
what he said?”

She
chuckled.  “You and I both know that you can’t trust a word out of that man’s
mouth.”  Where was
that
advice when I needed it, months ago?  “I thought
about calling you to find out what really happened.”

“I
quit.  That’s all.”  She didn’t need any more details than that.

However,
the hint of disbelief in her voice suggested she understood that wasn’t the
complete truth either.  “Right.  So what’s up, hon?  You looking for a
recommendation or something?”

I
opened my mouth, then closed it before the words could trip out.  I hesitated
long enough for her to say, “Kim?”

“Yeah,
I mean, no, I’m here.  I’m calling because—because…”  I leaned back in my chair
and rubbed an eye.

“What’s
up?  Are you okay?”

“No,
no, totally fine, but let me ask you something.  Are—are you happy working for
Roman?”

Her
throaty laugh filled the other side of the line.  I’d been jealous of it the
few times we’d talked.  Her laugh was pure, the kind that moved her whole body,
and it came with this sensual quality that I couldn’t really explain.  I could
see why men were attracted to her, even the ones that didn’t pay for her time. 
She said, “That’s a loaded question.”

“It
is?”

“Yeah,
well,
happy
is a relative term.  If you’re asking if I’d rather be back
at MIT teaching physics, then yes, I’m perfectly happy where I am.  But if
you’re asking if I like expensive dinners and blowjobs for dessert, that’s
another story.  I’m not proud of it, but I can bury the shame long enough to
afford that house in Maui.  What’s this about, anyway?  You didn’t find Jesus,
did you?”

“No.”

“And
you’re not calling to save my soul?”

“Nope,
not that either.”

“Good. 
Then spill it, girl.  I’m about fifteen minutes late for some rock band I’ve
never heard of.”

“This
early in the morning?”

“They
need a tour guide for the day, then I guess I’ll show them around the bedroom
later.  C’mon, chop chop.”

“Right,
okay.  I’ll be quick.”  One deep breath, then another.  “I started my own
company, another escort service, and I was wondering if you wanted to leave
Roman and come on board.”

“You
did?  That’s awesome.  Smart girl like you, you’ll do fine, but Kim, honey, you
know what the clients are like.  I just…”

Disappointment
settled over me like a pillow over my face.  Soft, pressing, suffocating.

 But,
nothing was ever gained by giving up at the first sign of defeat.

“I
know, I know.  Trust is fragile.  Will you let me give you the terms, at
least?”

“Sure.” 

I
could tell by the sound of her voice that I’d already lost her.  She’d checked out
of the conversation and was likely checking herself out in the mirror, ensuring
perfection before entertaining the rock stars. 

“I’m
going to offer you something that you won’t get anywhere else.  If you come
work for me, you’ll retain a hundred percent of your earnings for the first six
months.  I won’t take a dime of whatever you earn.  After that, it’s a
fifty-fifty split.  No bargaining you down, no taking extra out of your upsells
like Roman does.  Straight across the board, fifty-fifty.”

She
didn’t need to say anything.  The silence told me that I had her attention.

I
felt good.  This felt right. 
This
is what I was meant to do. 

I
continued, trying to contain the smile creeping across my lips, “And, that
first six months?  That includes old business and new business, too.  Come work
for me, and you’ll get a bonus for each new client you bring in.  I always
thought that was something Roman should implement, but he was too cheap.”  It
was a risk, but the reward would be worth it.

Lucy
cleared her throat.  “What’s the catch?”

“Two
small conditions.  Your current clients come with you—are you okay with that?”

“I’ll
convince them.  And the second?”

“Did
you ever wonder why I took over the taboo clients?”

“I
figured it was more money.”

“Exactly. 
Here, with us, we’re catering to the customers that want their needs met
through…other methods.  Let me ask you this: have you ever felt like your
clients were too afraid to ask for something more, but you were certain they’d
pay anything for it?”

I
listened to Lucy’s soft, understanding chuckle.  “All the time.”

“That’s
the second condition.  We won’t allow anything dangerous, and nothing you
aren’t absolutely comfortable with, but if you can let go of any inhibitions
you might have and give them what they’re
really
looking for, the sky
may be the limit, but your bank account won’t have one.”

“What
kind of stuff are we talking about?”

“Anything
goes.  Within reason.”

“I
don’t know, Kim.  Some of these guys can get pretty freaky, and that’s with me
putting my boundaries out there already.”

“It’s
up to you.  I stretched my boundaries over those three months and never felt
like I was in any kind of danger, not in the slightest.  Slightly freaked out
by the weirdness of humanity, you know, which is why I’m behind the desk now. 
I can tell you this, it was worth it.  It was worth learning that we’re all
flawed, and that being flawed doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself as long as
you find someone that appreciates it.  Or, someone that’s paid to understand. 
And that acceptance, even if it’s only for a couple of hours…people will pay
anything
for it.”

“Okay,”
she said, sighing.  “I hear you.  Let me think about it, and don’t you dare lie
to me…give me one good reason why you’re not feeding me a line of bullshit.”

“I
can give you one point five million of them.”

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